Cyrus's eyes fluttered open in shock. He shot up onto his feet, eyes surveying the ground for any traces of his defeated counterpart. There was nothing but dirt and debris from the collapsed tunnel.
"Are you alright sir," two voices chorused.
"I'm fine," the Decanus grunted, trailing a finger along his body, half expecting the sharp pain to come back at any moment. He inspected his wrists, no bone shards. Moving down his body, his hands pressed down upon the centre of his stomach, feeling the smooth armour protecting his organs, no indent. Sighing in relief, he quickly raised his head, assessing his current situation.
No exit of any sort. Cyrus dared not re-excavate the tunnel lest it collapses once more. Moreover, when he pressed his hand against the wall, the system warned him against this endeavour.
[Due to gaining system rank [Civitas], [System assist] has been activated!]
[[Unnamed] cannot be part of the main dungeon! This is a separate area!]
[Please name [Unnamed Area!]
Y/N
Grinning with satisfaction, he pressed Y. He thought "Name it: Training Camp!"
[[Unnamed Area] has changed to [Training Camp]]
[No Training Bonuses due to unmet requirements: [0/50 Training Dummies] [0/1 Parade Ground] [0/1 Obstacle Course] [0/100 Tents/Accommodation [1/2 Commanding Officers]]
[[Teleportation between [Main Dungeon] and [Training Camp] is now online!]
A simple wooden door appeared in front of him. Turning the knob, he was met by a starry night sky that inherited an almost liquid quality. Hypnotised by the sight, Cyrus ignored the button next to the door. The dungeon core slowly dipped his forefinger into the inky darkness. The blackness swirled and fluctuated as half his finger disappeared into its depths.
Warning bells blared in his mind. Just as he wrenched his finger out of the liquid, something gently brushed against his skin, a sensation so strange and peculiar that simply contemplating the matter sent jarring pain deep into his brain, shutting down the central nervous system in its entirety. All curiosity on this topic died instantly.
After 10 minutes of rest, Cyrus regained his usual demeanour. Grinning his trademark grin, he rubbed his hands together in preparation for the upcoming construction.
This training ground is the ideal location to perfect and streamline his new recruits and form a roman killing machine. His mind wandered off, dreaming of an impenetrable line of legionaries slaying hundreds upon hundreds of enemies with him at the forefront, leading the charge. A slight line of drool trickled down the side of his mouth. Cyrus hurriedly wiped it off, his face a tad pink.
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The dungeon core began his task by expanding his small dirt confines into a massive cavern stretching three men high and at least a dozen men in length and width. Thanks to the system officially giving him the dungeon core title, he was safe from the terrible headaches inflicted upon him by long hours of mana manipulation. Cyrus's efficiency shot up as if it had been a bolt released by a ballista. Flying straight and true, it slammed into a battlement without making so much as a dent. That wall was the dummies and tents. Due to a certain, pesky dungeon law prohibiting the creation of items outside of the catalogue, Cyrus had to hand-sow the first dummy.
The roman began by implanting a grass seed into the dirt floor. Placing his hands on the soil, he infused mana into it, urging the seed to grow.
A couple seconds passed by. Just as Cyrus began to doubt his efforts, believing he had wasted his mana, a green speck slowly emerged onto the surface. A sprout. Breaking through the ceiling that impeded its rise to power, the grass grew thick and tall, reaching for the sky. Before the roman's very eyes, the plant cycled through the stages of life. Just as the plant reached its prime, lush and brimming with life, Cyrus detached the plant from its base with a flick of his short sword. The grass wilted and dried up. The roman brushed his will against the object, absorbing it.
[Would you like to add [Hay] to your catalogue?]
Y/N
Tapping Y, he moved to the next step. Conjuring a linen undershirt, he swung his blade through the shirt, parallel to the ground. Taking the top layer, Cyrus spawned a mound of hay. Grabbing fistfuls of the dried vegetation, he wrapped the cloth around it, forming a ball shape. Fusing the adjoining ends into one, he sealed the head of the dummy off. Placing it to the side, the dungeon core conjured another linen shirt, replicated the process and created an oval body.
Just as he began conjuring another undergarment, Cyrus felt a tug coming from his soul. He paid it no heed. Another tug, fiercer this time, followed by a stinging pain.
[You're out of mana, switching to vitality as the energy source.]
Grumbling at the interference, he once again practised his mana channelling dance.
Sensing that his mana pool had been filled, the roman returned to the incomplete dummy. Repeating the same process for the arms and the legs, Cyrus now had all the components ready for assembly.
Placing the chest section down as the cornerstone, he placed the limbs in their designated areas and fused them together into one large piece. Following the attachment of limbs, the dungeon core created a long, thin, rectangular bronze pole and shoved it through the centre of the dummy to ensure stability.
Cyrus had a flash of inspiration.
There was no time to waste! Rushing to the teleporter, he clicked the button. The night sky was replaced by a vortex of blue. Jumping into the portal, he dashed out the other side and grabbed a scroll, "Runes for Dummies 101," before re-entering the gateway. His eyes were alight and his face glowed. His hands shook with excitement. Bounding over the stone floor, he reached the dummy.
His fingers acted independently, unravelling the scroll while his eyes greedily plundered the knowledge within. After a minute of pursuing, he snatched the dummy, flipped it over, removed the bronze spike and began carving runes into its back. After engraving several symbols of various sizes, Cyrus placed a palm on the runes and imbued them with mana. They lit up with an eerie blue glow.
[Would you like to add [Regenerative Training Golem] to your catalogue?]
Y/N